BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 179 they‟re in uniform and I‟m flat on my back. Oh, and stoned twenty-six hours per day. Forgot that part, I did. One night the conversation got a little racy. Both girls were there. They asked, in general, if I ever got any. If the truth be known, at that age I was lucky to have sex with eight to ten girls per year. Sometimes even less. However, in the interest of manhood and false pride, the real figure sort of doubled as we talked. Then we discussed my forced abstinence, and all three of us agreed that was a very bad thing. Personally, I agreed on the idea at least twice. They each gave me a kiss when they left that night, which only meant I had an erection until somewhere around three a.m., when I got my middle of the night pain shot. The next night, only one of them came to see me. The brunette. She even had a good idea. A very, very, very good idea. She‟d developed the crazy notion that I, a bedridden kid who wasn‟t getting any from anyone, might possibly enjoy a nice, quiet blowjob. She had no idea how exactly on the head she hit that nail, take my word for it. That little sweetie provided me with the aforementioned treasured gift, and I was in seventh heaven when she left. Two nights later, the little blonde, who was almost as cute as the brown-haired girl, did the same thing. There was never any untoward activity when they were on duty, and they treated me like any other patient in front of their supervisor, but I can attest they made the last four weeks of my stay much better than they would‟ve been normally. I lost track of them after I was discharged. It‟s probably just as well, since I was too young for either woman as a date. I‟m just glad I wasn‟t too young while I was a patient. ********** Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 180 We‟d had a few dogs since I was born, but nothing spectacular. There was Mimi, and I don‟t know what happened to her. Then my folks got Patsy, a cocker spaniel. She was okay as a pet, but that breed is among the bottom few percent of the stupidest dogs in the world, so she was no great shakes. A foxhound, (just picture a super-sized beagle), followed me home when I was about eight and Mom let me keep him. I called him Spotty. (See how original I was, even as a kid?) He was a good dog, and I had a lot of fun with him. I knew he was smart because he didn‟t much care for that David thing. Then my old man wanted to go out and shoot some crows one Sunday afternoon in the fall. He took me and Spotty along. I had my bb gun in case I saw a squirrel up close. Foxhound, or not, Spotty appeared to enjoy chasing rabbits, too. He saw one and took off after it. A few minutes later we heard a blood-curdling yelp. <strong>My</strong> old man made me wait while he went to check. When he came back he was dragging Spotty by the skin of his neck. It turned out the farmer‟s cows were getting out, even with his electric fence, so he turned the juice way up. It was hot enough to teach a cow never to go there again. It was also hot enough to kill a foxhound. We took Spotty home and I buried him in the back yard. After that, we got Scampy. Half German shorthair, half Brittany spaniel, she came from good hunting stock. Probably, if she‟d been taken out, she‟d‟ve done a good job, but my old man didn‟t hunt all that much. She was a beautiful palomino gold. Her ideal body weight would‟ve been around forty to forty-five pounds. She weighed about seventy-five. Scampy was a fat little girl, for sure. One funny story about her comes to mind. She was very well trained about going to the john outside. Never a problem after Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
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BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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